


but you'll be all right

by nighimpossible



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, Gen, Infinity War spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 01:43:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14486079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nighimpossible/pseuds/nighimpossible
Summary: INFINITY WAR SPOILERS AHEAD.*If you die, I think that’s on me. I don’t need that on my conscience.





	but you'll be all right

**Author's Note:**

> DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN INFINITY WAR: PART ONE.
> 
> Just pure, unadulterated fix-it fic because I knew the second I stepped out of the movie theater today I had to bring my son Peter Parker home alive and well. All mistakes are my own. It's a long wait until Part Two, folks. WHAT THE FUCK, RUSSOS. 
> 
> Title is from the song "Constellations," by the Oh Hellos.

 

 

 

Peter doesn’t mean to stay on the ship. Well—obviously he _does_ , but it’s like Mr. Stark practically _asked_ him to stay, what with the new suit so pliant and responsive to his touch. Who gives a teenager a suit like that and expects him to just go home? Mr. Stark is sneaky like a fox, Peter decides. Peter tears the parachute off his back and watches it float down towards the atmosphere below. The world—maybe even the _universe_ —needs Spider-Man in this fight. He's not about to run and hide.

 

Ned is going to _flip_ when he sees the new upgrades.

 

“Okay. What about _go home_ means _please stay?_ ” Mr. Stark whisper-shrieks at him. He looks less than pleased about Peter's presence on this ship, but Peter knows that deep down, Mr. Stark is happy to see him.

 

“You _do_ realize this is a one way ticket.” _Deep,_ deep down.

 

Peter might be fifteen but he’s old enough to help. He has all these powers and for him to sit on the sidelines is just—it’s _wasteful_. “There's no friendly, neighborhood Spider-Man if there’s no neighborhood.” Peter knows that doesn’t quite make sense, but Mr. Stark seems to understand all the same.

 

He sighs deeply at Peter. It's a sigh Peter knows well: one that his teachers often give him. The sigh of dealing with a problem child.

 

Whatever. Peter's got a great GPA.

 

“Fine," Mr. Stark says tightly, surprising Peter enough that he does a double take. He taps Peter on both shoulders like a king knighting a squire. "Congratulations. You’re an Avenger now."

 

 

* * *

 

 

Peter always knew that his encyclopedic knowledge of the Alien franchise would come in handy someday.

 

“The kid’s seen more movies than you,” Mr. Stark quips as the alien jettisons out of the newly created hole in the side of the ship. Peter manages to save the prisoner from flying off into space as well. It’s a very hero move, if Peter says so himself.

 

“Dr. Strange” is how the guy with the living cape introduces himself, which is kind of awkward if you ask Peter. It’s not like the Avengers have secret identities when they’re hanging out. Mr. Stark pulls Strange aside and the two have what they clearly think is the _adults only_ conversation, which is rude, considering Peter is an Avenger now and should be in on all the secret hero talk. Still, they must have forgotten about Peter’s spider senses. It’s easy enough to eavesdrop and learn how Strange values the Time Stone more than either of their lives. Peter doesn’t know too much about the Infinity Stones, but he does feel a little proud of the genuine ire that skirts across Mr. Stark’s face.

 

“Looks like we’re on our own, kid,” Mr. Stark tells Peter as Strange takes a seat to meditate at the helm of the ship. Peter fights back a smile. He’s not going to pretend that being on a team with Tony Stark isn’t his, uh, _life dream_. But the look on Mr. Stark’s face quiets the proud feeling in Peter’s chest. It's clear that they’re flying into something dangerous: maybe more dangerous than the universe has ever known. Peter’s not sure how many times a man like Mr. Stark can walk away unscathed.

 

But that’s okay, because Spider-Man is going to be right there at Iron Man’s side. Ready to swoop in and web-sling Mr. Stark away if he has to.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Titan looks like a spaceship graveyard when they arrive, and in retrospect, Peter thinks that should have been a warning.

 

The Guardians of the Galaxy are weird but funny. Drax is like, three times the size of Peter and Star Lord—what is _with_ these fake names—is a little too into how much Peter does or doesn’t like Footloose. Peter takes a step closer to Mr. Stark when Mr. Lord starts asking him about Kevin Bacon. Mantis is nice, though.

 

Dr. Strange says there’s a way for them to win. Peter’s always been good at statistics, but he leaves calculating their one out of fourteen million chance alone.

 

(It’s 0.00000714285 percent. His brain just does that sometimes, he can’t help it).

 

Peter is in position when Mr. Stark comes online over his earpiece. “You okay, kid?”

 

“Totally great.” His voice cracks only a little, and Peter thinks he deserves some credit for sheer nerve. Peter clears his throat. “Are you okay, sir?”

 

“Definitely not. But that’s a problem for another day.”

 

“It’s gonna be okay, Mr. Stark.” Peter doesn’t know why he says that. It’s probably a jinx, honestly. Michelle—no, it’s MJ to her friends, and Peter and MJ are friends now like, for _sure_ —MJ would say that Peter just jinxed this whole project to shit, and MJ is usually right about that kind of stuff. MJ is usually right about most things, actually. Not that Peter would admit that. Not to her face, at least.

 

But Mr. Stark has been through fights like this before. Now that Peter is an Avenger, maybe it’s his turn to support Mr. Stark and not the other way around. Sure, _some_ people might say he’s too young for this—Peter internally winces when he thinks of what the hell Aunt May’s going to think about this particular escapade—but he has the power to help change the fate of the galaxy. Just because Peter doesn’t have a learner’s permit yet doesn’t make that any less true.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The Thanos fight is going as well as can be expected until Star Lord asks about someone named Gamora. Peter is pulling as hard as he can on the gauntlet, joining in Mr. Stark’s efforts to wrest the glove from Thanos entirely. He can feel it slowly slide down Thanos’s massive fist inch by terrible inch. They’re close—they’re so _close_. And then Mantis has tears in her eyes and Peter doesn’t quite know what’s going on until Star Lord starts punching Thanos in the face.

 

"What are you doing?" Peter shouts at Star Lord, pulling with all his might on the glove. Suddenly, Mantis loses her grip and Thanos has regained his senses. One moment, Peter nearly has the gauntlet off and next, Peter is flying into the dirt.

 

He's not sure how long he's out, but when he blinks himself awake, it's to Mr. Stark's voice over their comms.

 

“ _Peter, talk to me,_ ” Mr. Stark calls out. Peter groans as he gets onto all fours and notes that he’s seeing stars.

 

“I think I’m concussed,” Peter says weakly. “Shouldn’t your supersuit prevent that from happening?”

 

“I’ll include immune to godlike entities in the patch,” Mr. Stark says, relief in his voice. He sounds choked, like something is causing him serious pain. “Get over here. Strange handed over the stone. Purple nurple’s gone.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Peter rips off his mask in fury, stalking over to Strange. “You just _handed it over_ ,” he shouts at Strange. Strange, for his part, pays him no mind. His only response is to raise his eyebrow slightly before taking a seated position in the dirt. “You know what? I don’t like you Mr. Strange. _If that is your real name_.”

 

“It’s Doctor,” Strange says. “And I did what I had to do.”

 

“You lost your medical privileges when you handed over that stone,” Mr. Stark adds darkly. “Considering that you just doomed half the universe. Do no harm ring any bells?” Strange doesn’t reply, and Mr. Stark turns to Peter. “And he called _me_ a douchebag.”

 

Privately, Peter thinks they are both douchebags, but at least Mr. Stark is kind of nice to him. Peter doesn’t look at the Guardians, who appear to be in their own state of private mourning. Star Lord is kicking rocks into a canyon while screaming, “ _I told you to go right!_ ” Peter doesn’t know what that means, but it sounds like grief all the same.

 

“They lost someone,” he tells Mr. Stark.

 

“Yeah,” Mr. Stark nods. “They did.” He puts a hand on Peter’s shoulder.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Twenty minutes later, the hairs on Peter’s arm twitch.

 

“Something’s happening,” Mantis says, terror in her voice. Peter watches in sheer horror as the alien woman disintegrates before their very eyes. Peter turns to Mr. Stark, who doesn’t seem to know what’s going on either.

 

“Quill?” Drax asks Star Lord, before disappearing into a cloud of ash as well.

 

Peter’s stomach lurches.

 

“Oh, man,” he hears Star Lord groan behind him, but Peter can’t focus on anything right now but the strange, horrifying tingle vibrating through every atom of his body right now. It’s like he’s been locked into a frequency his cells can no longer afford. This can't be it, this can't be how it ends.  _He's an Avenger, damn it—_

 

He’s terrified.

 

“I don’t feel so good,” Peter underplays, stumbling towards Mr. Stark. If anyone can fix this, it’s Tony Stark, genius playboy billionaire philanthropist. He can fix this.

 

There's a long pause before anyone says anything. Then, finally—

 

“You’re alright,” Mr. Stark says as calmly as he can manage. It sounds like a lie, and the last shred of Peter’s bravery turns to dust a little ahead of the program.

 

“I don’t—I don’t know what’s happening,” he says quietly, the fear of the unknown flooding his system. Adrenaline and terror course through his veins. Sure, Peter’s been scared before, but this is something else entirely. This is obliteration.

 

His body is beginning to fail him now. Peter stumbles into Mr. Stark’s arms. “I don’t want to go,” he begs, clutching at Mr. Stark like a lifeline. Peter doesn't want to leave like Mantis or the other Guardians. “I don’t want to go, sir. _Please_.” Peter's begging like there’s something that can be done. Like there’s a final rabbit that Mr. Stark just might pull out of his hat. “Please, Mr. Stark, I don’t want to go.”

 

Mr. Stark lays him down, and Peter knows that there is no rabbit.

 

Peter Parker is dying.

 

Avengers aren’t supposed to die like this. Guardians, maybe, but Avengers—they survive. They take on the fights that no one else can. So if Peter's dying, he’s certainly not an Avenger. Mr. Stark was just appeasing him. Telling the child what he wanted to hear. Peter glances up at Mr. Stark and knows that he has failed him for the last time. 

 

He can’t feel his fingers anymore. Peter doesn’t dare look down and witness how his body has betrayed him.

 

 _If you die, I think that’s on me. I don’t need that on my conscience_.

 

“I’m sorry,” Peter whispers. He didn’t mean to be another burden for Mr. Stark to carry. He didn't mean to fail the world so utterly.

 

Mr. Stark doesn’t say anything, but he also doesn’t look away. Perhaps there’s nothing more to say. Peter blinks back the tears, his vision blurring as Titan looms large around them.

 

This place was always going to be a graveyard.

 

And then the world goes dark.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

Peter wakes up, which in itself is frankly shocking. Something must have gone terribly right. Or maybe all that stuff on Titan was the worst dream ever.

 

Cracking open one eyelid, he sees someone in a Black Sabbath concert tee-shirt lying face down at the edge of Peter’s comforter.

 

“You know, he’s been bugging me for weeks about having a kid,” Pepper Potts— _the_ Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries and Mr. Stark’s fiancé—murmurs from the doorway. “But I think that we’ve already got our hands full with you.” She winks at him. “I’m really glad you’re alright, sweetheart.”

 

“What happened?” Peter asks groggily.

 

Mr. Stark shoots straight up from his prone position at the edge of Peter’s bed and topples over in his chair. “I said wake me up when the kid wakes up,” he says, glaring at Pepper before moving himself closer. “Hey.”

 

“Mr. Stark,” Peter starts, but his voice is choked like he hasn’t spoken in a long time. His eyes burn with shame. “I’m really sorry about everything, really—”

 

“I’m only going to say this once, Peter,” Mr. Stark says plainly. Peter looks up at the ceiling and tries to blink the tears away. “You’re a hero.”

 

Peter does a double take before scrabbling to sit up. “What?”

 

“Sure, you didn’t go home when I asked you to. But I was wrong. I needed you,” Mr. Stark says simply. “You pulled the short straw, but so did half the galaxy. That’s not on you.” Mr. Stark pulls off his rose-colored glasses and cleans them absentmindedly on the blanket that covers Peter’s legs.

 

“Is Thanos—” Peter starts.

 

“Super dead,” Mr. Stark nods, and relief floods Peter’s system like a tidal wave. “It’s a weird, long story that involves Dr. Strange saying _I told you so_ approximately a thousand times. I really don’t want to go into right now, considering that I’ve been debriefing various governments on their relative states of security all night. But tomorrow, maybe. Friday, schedule Peter and I for brunch at that place I like.”

 

“You’re so specific,” Pepper says with a roll of her eye. “He does this to be cute, you know. He’s programmed her so he can be cute in front of other people.”

 

“Consider it done, sir,” Friday’s voice chimes in the room.

 

“You’re not cute,” Pepper tells Mr. Stark.

 

“I’m extremely cute,” Mr. Stark beams at her before turning back to Peter. “You’re in Stark Tower, if you’re wondering. Bought it back after some tough negotiations. This place comes with the Avengers gig. Seems better for you than the upstate facility, if you want to keep going to school.” Tony shrugs. “You know, if you still want the job, after all that.”

 

Peter is out of bed and at the window in an instant. “Woah,” he murmurs, looking down at the Manhattan skyline that surrounds them. Then he tilts his head to the side and looks back at Mr. Stark. “Wait. This is _my_ room?”

 

“This is your apartment, Peter,” Pepper corrects. “As an Avenger, it’s good to have a home base in more than just one borough.”

 

“She’s right,” Mr. Stark nods. “I’ve got safe houses and bunkers all over the city.”

 

Pepper excuses herself to take a call and then it’s just Peter and Mr. Stark. “Come over here,” Mr. Stark requests. Peter sits down on the edge of the bed. “The last time we were together, you told me you were sorry.”

 

Peter feels his face burn with regret. “I couldn’t help. I didn’t do my job, sir.”

 

Mr. Stark takes Peter’s head between both his hands, forcing him to look up from the ground. “You don’t apologize to me for that. You made me proud. I failed _you_. Get that right.”

 

Peter feels his face crumple and Mr. Stark sighs before gathering him against his chest. “You know, you don’t have to call me sir.”

 

“Okay, sir,” Peter says, voice warbling. “I mean. Okay.”

 

“Also, your little middle school gang is here. Just an FYI, Pepper told them you’re awake and I anticipate they’ll be barging in this room within the minute.” Mr. Stark pulls back and for a moment, Peter could _swear_ that there was a tear in his eye as well. Maybe it was just the light.

 

“ _Oh my God—_ Peter, you were alive, and then you were dead, and now you’re alive again.” Ned is pushing past Mr. Stark at a near sprint before catapulting himself at Peter, enveloping him in a gigantic hug. "I'm glad you're not dead anymore."

 

"Same. I also like being not dead," MJ chimes in.

 

"Either one of you want to fill me in?" Peter chokes out as Ned squeezes him tight.

 

"It was like the Leftovers, but  _real_ —" Thus begins an extremely vivid recap of the last few days.

 

MJ, for her part, sits herself crosslegged at the bottom of Peter’s mattress like she owns it.

 

“This is your apartment, huh,” she says, mildly impressed. Peter marks it as a win.

 

“So, kids,” Peter hears Mr. Stark murmur in the hall.

 

“Are you sure we can handle two?” Pepper asks.

 

“The first one’s the hardest, isn’t that what they all say,” Mr. Stark replies.

 

“If Peter’s aunt ever hears you call him your dependent I think we’re going to have a problem.”

 

“We will cross that inappropriately hot bridge when we come to it.  _Ow_ , okay, stopping that line of thought right now." Peter smiles to himself at the image of Pepper giving Mr. Stark what he deserves.

 

“Peter, are you even _listening to me?_ ” Ned smacks Peter on the arm and Peter re-centers on his friends, leaving Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts to their own private conversation in the hall. “Captain Marvel is so totally the best superhero captain now. _Way_ better than Captain America. He's like, retired."

 

"And super old. Say cheese, losers." Peter looks up as MJ snaps a photo of him and Ned on her phone. "That's going on my insta story. Did you know Stark Tower has a location filter?"

 

 


End file.
